Chapter 3 - The Cold War
The fallout began forty-eight hours later.
I was at the small apartment I’d kept in the city, an emergency bolt-hole no one knew about. My phone didn't stop vibrating. Richard’s voice, usually booming and authoritative, was now a frantic, high-pitched mess on my voicemail.
"Elias, enough of this game! You’ve locked us out of the accounts. Your mother is hysterical. Return the credentials, or I will have your military record audited. I will strip you of every pension, every honor you think you’ve earned!"
I deleted the message without blinking. He didn't understand the new reality: I didn't care about the military honors. I didn't care about their status. They had used their social circle to isolate Giselle, telling their friends she was "unstable" and "unfit," a narrative they used to justify the eviction.
I contacted an old friend, Marcus, an investigative journalist who had been waiting for the green light on a story about corporate malfeasance in the energy sector—a sector my father dominated. I sent him the files.
"This will burn them to the ground, Elias," Marcus warned over an encrypted call. "This isn't just about money. This is about tax evasion on a massive scale. If this hits the press, they’re going to prison."
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"They cast out my wife and child into a blizzard, Marcus," I replied, staring at Hazel, who was sleeping peacefully in her crib. "They didn't just break the law. They broke the sanctuary of my home. Let it burn."
The public face of the family began to crumble. One by one, their board positions were challenged. Their name, once synonymous with prestige, became a synonym for scandal as the initial leaks hit the front page.
